Carry You
by TerenceHiggs
Summary: A Flint/Bell romance set post-Hogwarts and after the War with You-Know-Who. Wood's dead and Katie's on her own. She's made a deal with Flint from keeping the only love left in her life from disaster. Please R&R.
1. The Agreement

**_A/N: _**_Nothing much to say except that I'm starting a new fic and I'd really appreciate your reviews. Try not to rip this because I'm using Rowling's characters, but I've created their personalities based on my perception of them. For visual eye-candy, visit my webpage. Just pictorial musings, no fear. (It's still under massive construction though, I hate ads. Ergh.) Nothing more to say except I hope you enjoy. _

**_Summary: This is a Flint/Bell romance, post-Hogwarts, post-War. _**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's characters and blahblahblah, my musing. **

The Agreement

"You're crazy." 

There were some days she really thought she was; today was only one of many. 

Katie Bell watched as her current co-worker, Charlie Weasley, mopped up the blood running down her right arm, trickling from a deep gash near her shoulder. Dragons tended to leave nasty scars. Luckily, she'd only gotten nicked. She bit her lip and braced herself for the liquid sting of the antibiotics. The pain faded in a few seconds but the initial contact was always agonizing, always. 

"I got the sucker in the cage, didn't I?" Katie smiled grimly as Charlie wrapped her arm in filmy gauze. 

"You're absolutely suicidal," Charlie sighed. 

_Probably_, Katie thought quietly. There were days when she couldn't see the point in living, in facing a new morning, smiling another hollow, empty, useless smile. She hadn't had a full night's worth of sleep in six years. She hadn't been able to feel since that gruesome night either. She was as hollow as her smile, a superficial shell. She went through the motions, she said all the right things, and no one would have to know about the nightmares that kept her up at night. 

Charlie was right; she _was_ suicidal. Maybe that's the thrill she associated with chasing down and locking up malignant creatures. Maybe she was looking for death. She didn't think she'd care if it knocked on her door anyway. She was the best at what she did because she was fearless. She just didn't feel at all. 

Katie had been the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (DRCMC) for nearly three years now, ever since the end of the War. The first thing she'd done in office was disband the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and create a new division named the Committee for the Preservation of Endangered Creatures (CPEC). With the help of International Cooperation, Katie had been able to petition away at least five thousand acres of land worldwide for Creature Reservations, the two largest, of course, being in Zuwanga, Africa and Kukaburry, Australia. Surprisingly enough, the Medicine Men of Africa had been very enthusiastic about starting a preserve and chasing away the beasts that hounded the local magicking villages. 

The CPEC organizations flourished under Katie's watchful eye. For the most part, funds were contrived through benefit donations and philanthropist contributions to "the good cause." Safari expeditions into the more dangerous parts of the reserves were also popular and provided a nice, fat paycheck. Excellent guides with only the best of training in cases of emergency were allowed to tote parties around the outback or safari.

After two years, Katie had resigned her post as the Head of the International Reservations Association (IRA). She'd made sure that the reservations were on their way to soaring success before she'd finalized her decision to move on. An overenthusiastic and resourceful Aussie named Gerbert Gilberton had eagerly accepted her offer to overtake her position. She, in the meantime, had decided to continue running DRCMC but had also become a fulltime Beast Control Agent (BCA). She received reports complaining about local wildlife from all over the world, tracked down the prodigal beasts, caught them and released them in one of her established reservations. 

Like the dragon, the gnarly Tariki Tula Dragon that had managed to rip into her on its way into the barred cage. 

"Where are we sending this one?" Charlie asked, interrupting her thoughts. 

Charlie watched as her blue eyes slid slowly across his face. She seemed to wake from her reverie and look him in the face as if just noticing he was there. He'd grown accustomed to her silences though, and remained silent.

"The colony in Tangeria, file the paperwork and accompany it on the way back. It should be happy there," Katie said curtly. 

She hopped off the gurney table, took a disgusted look at her arm, as if chiding herself for getting too close, and walked out of the tent. The hot African sun beamed down on her, splaying across her already tanned skin. She smiled at one of the hired natives that passed by the medi-tent. He was carrying a massive charming stick with him.

To anyone else, she would've looked like a beautiful, brilliant, successful magizoologist. She'd accomplished more than a lifetime's work by the age of twenty-six, especially after the War against the Dark Magics. She'd managed to pull herself out of the destruction and create a place for herself, a new life.  

Ah, the pleasantries of fantastically fake presumptions. 

If anyone had told her ten years ago that her friends would be murdered at the age of nineteen, that her family would be obliterated by the age of twenty, that her husband would be dead at the age of twenty-one, and that she'd wake up wanting to kill herself every morning for the rest of her life… she would've laughed. She would laugh _now_ at the irony, the unfairness, of it all. Too bad she gave that up six years ago, too. 

"Missus Bahl, Kadee, sumwun is har to see yoo." 

Katie looked up, shielding her eyes from the light with her nicked arm. Through the hired local's thick accent, she managed to make up what he was saying. Just then, she spotted a tall Wizard dressed in black khakis and a dark gray sweater sweep across the camp with an air of sophisticated supremacy. 

_Idiot_, Katie thought distastefully. _Wearing that kind of clothes in this weather, he'll have a stroke. _

She caught sight of his face, his faded pair of glinting gray eyes, and stiffened reflexively. 

Charlie emerged from the tent, his curiosity perked by the shouting. He looked up, narrowed his eyes in surprise, and braced himself behind Katie in an aggressive stance, his arms across his chest. Katie didn't need Charlie to tell her who it was though. She knew, in her every moment of painful living, barely scraping by, she _knew_ who the demon was…

"Marcus Flint."

"What're you doing here?" Katie spat. Spite, pure hatred, couldn't even begin to describe how she felt towards Flint.

"Don't get your panties into a twist, Bell. I'm here on business," Flint said coldly, slightly amused. 

Katie didn't like how he took up so much space. His nearness was causing her to feel nauseous. His wide shoulders blocked out the sun, leaving her in his shadow. Just like a Flint, leave the world to darkness as long as they're the ones blocking out the light. She stepped backwards unconsciously. He noted it and smiled knowingly at her. 

"What exactly is your _business_?" Charlie asked from behind her. 

"I'm a soon to be paying customer," Flint said to Bell, completely ignoring Weasley.

How he escaped Azkaban, she'd never know.

"Get it over with, Flint, or leave. You're aggravating my campsite," Katie snapped. 

"I'm not aggravating anyone but you," Flint said matter-of-factly.

"Good day, Flint," Katie forced out, not even halfway civilly. 

"I want to hire you as a tour guide," Flint drawled. 

Katie looked at him in disbelief before she let out a sharp, staccato burst of laughter.

"If that's what you Apparated here for, you're wasting your time. They have professionals that do safari tours, you can get anyone. I'm not a puppet for the IRA anymore," Katie said. 

"Ah, but that's the point. I don't want anyone. I want you, Bell. You built the Reservation and I only want to see the best. You do understand that I contribute heavily to the organization funds…" Flint let the weight of his words rest on Katie.

"I don't need your money," Katie retorted sharply.

"That's where you're wrong, Bell. Why don't you ask your good friend Gilberton? He was the one that owled me the request for a massive donation last week. Apparently, the funds are drying up. Or why don't you ask your assistant, Mr. Weasley? He knows," Flint said blandly. 

"Don't be ridiculous. This is the downtime. There's nothing wrong with the funds," Katie felt herself getting riled. 

"Fine. Don't take my word for it. Just don't come crawling back when your Reservation falls indebt to the Tangerian Government," he said.

Katie turned to Charlie. "What's all this rubbish about the Reservation?" 

Charlie looked at her nervously and shifted his weight from side-to-side. 

"You've got to be joking." Katie felt like someone had just punched her in the face. She turned around to see Flint's back disappearing through the camp towards the dragon holding cell. 

"You've got to do what he wants, Katie. Zuwanga's going down. Gilberton's a shitty advisor and he was scared as all hells to tell you we needed the money," Charlie blurted. 

"I am _not touring with Marcus Flint!" Katie hissed. _

"We need the money…"

Katie's lifework flashed before her eyes. The only thing she had left to cling to in life was her work. She couldn't let Flint strip that from her, too. Not after Oliver, not after what happened, she wouldn't let him ruin her life again.

"Flint!" Katie shouted. She sprinted after him, a thin trail of dust rising from her boots hitting the African sand. 

Flint stopped in mid-stride and turned around.

He smirked at her and watched as she came to a screeching halt. 

"If I play your bimbo guide, you'll give us the money to stay afloat." It was more of a statement than a question.

"That's the whole point of the expedition, Bell. To see if this reservation is really worth supporting," he said dryly.

"You do it or no deal," Katie argued scathingly.

"You're hardly in the position to barter," Flint drawled. 

"Do it or no deal," she repeated.

"How about you tour me, show me what's so great about this forsaken desert, and convince me that my money is worth funding your precious little reservation?" Flint mused. He'd completely reversed the argument. How he'd gotten the upper hand, she didn't know. But as he stared down at her, his gray eyes flashing, she felt a horrible feeling of terror spread through her. 

"Deal?" Flint asked, taking a step closer to her. 

"You'll make that contribution," Katie ground out. 

"Oh, really?" 

Katie had enough common sense to keep her mouth shut.

"I see you've reverted back to your maiden name," Flint said with lazy interest. 

"That's none of your business, Flint." 

"But it is. Don't forget, I was the last one to see him alive." 

With that, she snapped. 

She'd caught him completely unaware and had never felt more satisfied than when her knuckles made contact with his precious, pretty-boy face. She hoped she'd broken his bloody nose. 


	2. Nightmares

**_A/N:_**_ Short and quick and angst-y. I promise I'll post again real soon cause this is almost a filler chapter that goes more in-depth to Katie's psyche and Oliver's death. I am drawing the stage. Muhahaha. =) The action will come, I promise. And so will Flint-Flint-Flint. Please R+R. Much love: Jaine._

**_Disclaimer: Hopefully you can differentiate between my stuff and Rowling's because what's mine is mine and what's hers is hers. _**

Nightmares

_"This could be **it, Katie. Tomorrow the War could be over."**_

_His brown eyes met hers and she felt him drag his thumb across her cheekbone. She pressed her cheek harder against his palm and grabbed his hand. She felt unreasonably chilled._

_"I know… I just have a bad feeling about this. I don't trust __Flint__."_

_"He's not lying. The Ministry… has **ways of making people talk. He did it willingly."**_

_"But he wants to **lead now, and they're letting him? After all his family's done? I can't believe it."**_

_He leaned forward, his forehead brushing against hers, kissing her brow, pulling back her soft, brown hair. _

_"I'd rather trust him, than lose hope, Kates. Think about it." _

_He placed his hand over her flat stomach and smiled patiently at her. A familiar glimmer of mischievous had crept back into his eyes. She knew he was only trying to ease her fears, reassure her that it would be all right, but she couldn't believe it. _

_Hope._

_Oliver _**was_ her hope. _**

_"I don't want you to go. Not again." She could feel the tears surging forward. The tears she had tried so unsuccessfully to hide from him time and time again. Nowadays, soldiers who left… didn't always come back. War or no war, she didn't think she could bear the thought of losing him, not after she'd already lost so many friends, her own family._

_"You know I have to. It's ending. You can feel it, too, can't you, Katie? We're so close. And wouldn't it be worth the try if our kids could grow up in a world without shadows?" _

_He kissed her, pulled her down, and for a time, everything was right again._

_Someone was rapping sharply on her door. _

_She pulled on Oliver's old Puddlemere robes and answered it, half-awake. He had left three days ago in the middle of the night. She had been shattered that he hadn't even said good-bye, but she inherently knew why he'd done it. He'd left her on their bed, naked and sleeping, because he wouldn't've been able to say it one more time, another kiss, another hug, more sobbing on her part, one more time he'd promise her he'd come home, and every time he left knowing that he might not.  It was killing them. _

_What time was it? Almost two in the morning… _

_Fred Weasley, an old schoolmate and close friend of Oliver's, was standing on the steps of her house. His eyes were red, rimmed with tears. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages. His brother had been killed a year ago. He was holding a red envelope with an official Ministry seal. _

_She felt her heart stop. _

_"No." It had been soft at first, an instinctive denial. Then she had screamed it. She'd thrown herself at him, attempting to push him out the door when he had picked her up and pulled her against him. She'd been hysterical. How could it hurt so much? The pain had been unbearable, like someone had ripped out her heart. _

_And then Fred, "I'm so sorry, Katie. I'm so sorry."_

_"No, Fred, he's not dead. There's a mistake. He's not. He's not. He's not." Her litany of half-slurred sobs still echoed in her ears sometimes. _

_He's not._

_But he was. _

**Dear Mrs. Katie Bell Wood,**

**I regret to inform you that your husband has died in our service. Words cannot express the pain that accompanies the passing of a loved one, nor can it console the living, but I offer you my sincerest condolences. Your husband made the ultimate sacrifice for the cause of greater good in this world. His passing will be forever honored. I wish you nothing but strength and faith in the next few months to help you through this difficult time.**

**Sincerely,**

**_Arman_****_ Belligrant_**

**Chief Commander of the British Magic Military**

Katie jerked awake. She sat herself up in bed, still shaking. She lifted a hand to her face and felt wetness, her tears. She kicked off the sheets and pushed herself off the bed. It was freezing but the sting was good. It told her she was still alive, even if she was shuddering uncontrollably. 

She couldn't remember what she'd dreamt about. She never did. But she woke up in the same state every night, completely petrified, shaking, and crying. 

Her friend, Angelina Weasley, had suggested she see a Psychiawitch when her nightmares had begun but Katie had no intention of doing anything of the sort. She didn't remember what happened in her dreams, but she already knew what they were about. The only way she could function was compartmentalizing her life… compartmentalizing Oliver. If she opened that box again, she was likely to fly off the handle. 

She'd already tried to kill herself, supposedly.

She'd told Angelina and Fred that it had been an accident but they hadn't listened. They'd packed up her belongings and moved her into their flat faster than she could blink an eye to protest. She had learned soon enough that if she didn't fake her wellness, she'd never be able to leave. They had thought she'd get better with enough time. _"Give her time. Give her time."_ Time wasn't enough and Katie already knew she'd never stop having nightmares. She'd never go back to the way she'd been before but she was good at faking it. And they'd let her go. 

She hadn't been able to stay in that house, hadn't been able to stand the fact that Angelina still had Fred but Oliver had been ripped away from her in the blink of an eye. Seeing them together, knowing that they could share a bed at night, raise a house full of children, spend the rest of their lives together, was almost as maddening as her insomnia or depression. 

So she'd blocked everything out. 

Survival was funny that way. 

She didn't think anymore, didn't feel, didn't care. She didn't smile and she never laughed unless it was a harsh, cutting one as bitter as the rest of her. She didn't hope for the future, ruminate of things to come, she didn't even sleep at night. Her friends, what was left of them, had all settled happily into their marriages, pushed back the past, and continued with the rest of their lives. Katie had, too. In a different way, in a way that didn't require feelings. 

_And wouldn't it be worth the try if our kids could grow up in a world without shadows?_

She had thought yes at the time. Yes, it would. But she'd been such a pretty, little fool. _No, Ollie, it hadn't been worth the try. I'm as good as dead now, aren't I? And I'll never have your child._

What time was it? Almost four. No point in trying to get back to sleep. 

Katie picked up the book by her bed and began reading by dim candlelight. 

Tomorrow was the first day she'd tour with Flint. It had been three months since she'd seen him last. It was a grim thought, knowing she'd be spending the next month of her life with the man who had murdered her husband. How ironic that for the second time in twenty-seven years, she would putting her life into his hands. Technically. She refused to lose the reservations. She just couldn't. Not to Flint, not again. 

Maybe she would get into a wand fight with him. They'd draw, aim, fire… and then maybe, peaceful oblivion. For the first time in six years, she might be able to get some rest. She'd kill Flint and follow Oliver to the grave. 


	3. Mister Flint

**_A/N: _**_Short filler chapter just to let y'all know I'm back. _

**_Disclaimer: DUH!_**

Mister Flint

"Have you got your gear?" 

It was the first time she'd spoken to him the entire morning. 

Flint grinned snarkily at her and retorted, "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want to know?" Katie glared at him. 

She'd been overseeing the expedition gear and double-checking the "essentials." Though, granted, there weren't many essentials witches or wizards generally needed. Disapparition was a handy thing and so was conjuring and calling. Katie didn't take the luxuries for granted though, there were some parts of the jungle and the desert where Apparition was tricky. It was hard to locate a specific place when everything looked exactly the same and the last thing she needed was Flint to end up in Cambodia… On second thought, she wouldn't mind all that much but she had to bloody pretend for a month that she didn't. 

"Don't you think we should at least be semi-civil?" Flint drawled. He zipped up his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. 

"No point," she responded flatly.

Katie had noted he'd dressed sensibly today. The sun was unbearable at times in Africa. 

Just then a bright flash of light exploded before her eyes. 

Katie blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the faces swimming infront of her when her mind lurched: _news reporters! _What in the world were they doing here? At least five different people began hounding her with questions about the reservations and her opinions of Flint's generous donations when the smarmy prat deflected the attention onto himself. Apparently, being rich and an ex-Deatheater was all the rage. Katie had grown accustomed to the reporters when the reservations had first begun, but after that, she'd receded back into her usual life and they had left her alone. They were disconcerting. She hated them.  

She watched as Flint expertly handled the tiny mob of overeager dirt-mongers. He'd somehow managed to direct them elsewhere before he returned to the supplies table to finish packing his equipment. 

"Are we Apparating with all this stuff somewhere?" Flint asked blandly. It was a little heavy to carry. 

"No. I do things the old fashioned way. We're going to rough it out," Katie answered curtly.

"Never can make anything easy for me, can you, Bell?" Flint smirked. 

"Only returning a favor." She snapped. With that, she slung on the rest of her provisions and walked away. 

Flint was not an idiot. 

Just because his playboy, rich-and-evil, mommy's-prat news reports appearance painted him out to be nothing more than a name didn't mean that he was. He knew better than anyone that Katie blamed him for Wood's death. He didn't totally disagree with her either. In many ways, he was as responsible for Wood's death as he was for his own path in life. He wished it didn't have to be that way though. 

He looked up and saw Katie's slim figure disappear into a nearby tent. She was talking rapidly in a Medicine-Man tongue he'd never heard spoken before and gesturing wildly to a small, fisherman like native. She was all light and beauty and everything he'd never have. 

It was sick. 

If his parents could see him now… But what the hell did he care? His parents never gave two shits about him. All they wanted was a big name, a bigger bank account, and the winning ticket. Dumbledore. Voldemort. Dumbledore. Voldemort. Whoever was on top, whoever was in the lead… It was all a big power game to them and he'd been a pawn. _Do this. Do that. This way. That way. And he'd been sick of it._

Flint was sick of it all. Everything his parents had done was reflected on _his_ life. They'd really fucked him up. He hadn't been born with a decent chance in the world, not with decent people at least, the people that mattered. And he was tired of being labeled something he wasn't. He used to get a rise out of it, knowing they were all wrong, brainless idiots for thinking so. He used to think it was amusing to manipulate people and abuse his façade as a Deatheater; it surprised people to know he wasn't. They never expected it. And when they didn't expect anything, he had the upper hand. But that had been when he'd been younger. Now, in many ways, all he wanted was redemption. 

Now he was going to find it, finish this… With a particular, antsy little ex-Miss Wood. 

"We're taking a boat down the river right down into Zuwanga."

Katie had resurfaced next to him. 

Flint noted the two feet diameter she kept. 

"Fine," Flint said. 

"Load the gear," she said. She began commandeering the native hire-hands around her and in less than half an hour everything was stowed away and set. 

One month. 

He had a month to settle this with Katie and then maybe both of them could get on with their lives.

It wasn't about the money or the reservation, to her it might be, but not to him. For him, it was something deeper, something more important. Zuwanga was just another cover for him, another game. Katie was the purpose. Whatever damage he'd inflicted on her, whatever pain that he had caused, everything had to be fixed. Thank Merlin Gilberton was an idiot. Flint had seen his golden opportunity as the reservation began to flounder. He could step in and save the day. He grinned wryly at the thought. A Flint save the day? No. Maybe. Didn't hurt to dream though, did it?

He almost snorted out loud. Who was he kidding? Sometimes dreaming hurt more than reality because then you woke up. 

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" 

He heard Katie's impatient shouting before snapping around to look at her. 

Her blue eyes flashed in irritation and he stepped off the dock and onto the boat. She gave him a scathing look before untying the ropes keeping them in place. She shoved off with the help of some men on the wooden dock and tapped the engine with her wand. It roared to life and the tiny, but comfortable, boat lurched forward along the murky waters of the Congo. 

One month. 


	4. Peace of Mind

**_A/N: _**_Damn! When was the last time I updated. Whoo… Hahahaha. Sorry 'bout that, kiddies. Didn't mean any harm. I've just been mad busy or mad lazy. Either/or we've gotta get this little fic finished, eh? =) So… I know the fifth book has come out but I'm not going to let that interfere with this story. It probably won't at any rate. But I started writing this before the book came out so I'm going to pretend it doesn't exist right now. Yeah, bite me. Chapter 4… here we go. Cheers, mates!_

**_Disclaimer: If I owned HP, you can bet your pansy ass I wouldn't be writing here._**

****

Peace of Mind

The abrupt burst of shrilling screams jerked Flint awake. He rolled to his feet, forgot he was sleeping in a hammock, twisted his foot in the straw, and fell headfirst onto the wooden deck of the small boat.

He muttered a quick profanity under his mouth and quickly righted himself. 

The entire forest had exploded into life. The sharp, staccato bursts of ear-piercing screams filled the air. 

"Howler monkeys, Flint. Keep your knickers on." 

He hadn't even noticed Katie. She was sitting cross-legged on the banister of the boat, gracefully peeling a pear. She looked totally at peace with the moonlight swathing over her, balanced like a graceful cat, daintily eating the pear in her right hand. Flint began to wonder if she ever slept. 

"You get used to it after a while," she said with a tiny shrug. 

"So what're _you _doing? Waiting for them to start screaming?" Flint frowned. He sat down on the deck and frowned. He was beginning to think he wasn't cut out for this back-breaking sort of life.

"What do you think?" Katie frowned. 

"Well, I'm beginning to think you don't sleep at all," Flint retorted. 

"I don't sleep much," Katie admitted. 

"Why not?"

There was a pause. Katie caught herself before she blurted out the truth about her nightmares and insomnia. It was unnerving how Flint managed to get beneath her skin. He'd always been able to irk her like that, but she'd be a fool to give him the upper hand again. 

"Don't need it," she answered succinctly. 

He didn't push her. 

She remained silent. Strands of honey gold hair flit across her face and she pushed them back impatiently. She looked at the pear she was holding with retained disgust and chucked it into the murky waters of the African river they were quietly streaming along. She felt very odd in that moment, very alone. 

"Bell--" Flint didn't get to finish. 

"Why are you doing this?" Katie blurted suddenly. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Why are you doing this to me? Another score for Marcus Flint? Haven't we both had enough… You could have gotten anyone and you and I both know that. You purposely forced me into a corner, and you knew I wouldn't say no, so why? Why me? Why now? Why at all? What does it matter to you if my Reservations go under," Katie exploded. 

She pushed herself off the railing and threw the paring knife she'd been holding across the deck. The clatter of its collision was drowned out by the screaming around them. 

Flint was more than a little surprised at her sudden outburst but he'd been expecting it for a while. He fluidly moved to his feet and took a dangerous step towards her. She backed away, flinching as if he'd actually touched her. 

"Confession time, is that it?" Flint sighed. 

Katie looked up and saw a different Flint. Not the one that she'd hated for years, but someone much older, much lonelier, and much more human. She recognized the sudden tiredness of his face because she had seen it so often on her own. Flint was tired. 

"Confession f-for what?" She choked out. 

"Well, you're right, aren't you, Bell? I shouldn't care. I shouldn't fucking care at all. But I do. And it's been eating away at me because I haven't lived up to my word," Flint said flatly. 

"What word?" 

Flint bent slightly, reaching into his pocket and pulled out a tatty-looking, black handkerchief. He grabbed her wrist, watched as she jerked back as if she'd been slapped, and placed the handkerchief in her open palm. He released his hold on her just as suddenly as he'd encircled her wrist and stepped backwards. He looked at her, his grey eyes boring holes into her, turned, and walked below deck to finally get some decent sleep. 

Katie was left standing by herself in the moonlight. 

Her hand shook as she unfolded the crumpled handkerchief. 

Her breath caught painfully in her throat and she felt her heart stop as she stared at what Flint had given her. The small, perfect, golden ring that lay in her palm was the mirror image of the one she used to wear on her own hand… It had belonged to Oliver. His wedding ring. Her hand moved forward to touch it, to try and remember what it had been like… 

It was still warm. 

Her hand wrenched backwards as if she'd been burned.

For the first time in a long time, she thought she felt the tears roiling up. But no. She was done. It was over. She'd closed that part of her life. At least that's what she told herself. Unfortunately, her past had come to stalk her… embodied in Marcus Flint himself. 

"How?" 

Flint looked up from his uncomfortable position on a stack of boxes he'd been attempting to use as a bed. 

She didn't need to elaborate. 

_How did you get my dead husband's wedding ring?_

Flint smirked at the idea of hearing that particular question come out of her mouth. 

"I told you. I was the last one to see him alive," he shrugged.

Katie swallowed visibly. 

"Are you finally ready to listen to me then?" Flint sighed. 

She nodded. 

Flint paused. 

"Look, Bell. I'm not an idiot. I know you think I'm a bastard. I know you blame me for what happened to Wood. I can't say I disagree all that much with you. It was my fault. I should've known better. It was a shitty situation, but that's it. That's all I could do. You think I don't wonder why it was him instead of me? You think I don't _wish _that it had been me instead of him that night? 

"You're lucky. You were born with a choice to be who you wanted to be. Me. No. I was force-fed my entire life and when I finally got the bollocks to cut my ties it was a little too late. But again, my fault. I wasn't looking to be a hero, Bell. I was looking for some peace of mind. So I offered to lead the raid, I regurgitated the information, and off we went. 

"And Wood… Wood came along. And he was caught. And he was killed. But he'd made me swear even before the attack that I would make sure you were all right if he didn't come back. He gave me the ring to hold. I suppose I would've given him something to hold for me, too. But I didn't have anything of worth to me, I didn't have anyone who would cry for me if I was sent home in a matchbox. And that was the way it went.

"And I didn't give it to you, because I knew you'd slam the door in my face and try to kill me on sight. But it's been eating away at me and I'm fucking tired, Bell. I just want what I always wanted. Some peace of mind. To be left alone. So that's it. You're my last tie. I thought if I could get you to forgive me, I could die in peace. 

"That's why. That's why it's you, it's now. That's why any of this exists at all. Because I'm a selfish shithead who just wants to die in peace." 

Katie had lost the ability to speak some time during the tirade. 

"So can you forgive me, Bell?" Flint snarled. 

She stared numbly at him. 

"That's what I thought. A Flint's luck, right? So I'll guess I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life like you do. Sorry, Bell. I really am. But that's the way it goes," Flint snapped. 

He turned around, indicating that the conversation was over. 

Katie swallowed, headed for the deck, and left him alone to sleep. For the first time in years, no, probably in her entire life, she had seen Marcus Flint as a living, breathing person. 

Now things would have to change. 

She looked at the ring in her palm. Without a second's hesitation, she dropped it into the river and watched the glinting gold disappear forever into the muddy waters. 

"Bye, Ollie." 


	5. Forgiving Flint

**_A/N:_**_ Hey, long time no see, kiddies.__ Well, I'm "back." Who knows when I'll resurface again, though I don't plan to keep you hanging. Sorry, I'm lazy. One lazy ass mofo. __Flint__ and __Bell__… continued._

**_Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. And, oh, lookit that! Not mine. _**

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Forgiving Flint

Katie knew the tour was a farce. 

Flint had told her. 

It was all a cover, a stupid fake-out, so he could get her alone to clear his own guilty conscience. 

She'd spent the entire night lying in the hammock on deck and thinking over their brief and exposing conversation, or rather, his painfully humanizing confession. It had been so much easier to think of Marcus Flint, the pureblood bastard, as the bad guy. For years she had blamed him, dreamt of the ways she'd make him pay if they ever came face-to-face. Well, here they were. Face-to-face. And she'd discovered he was as guilty as she was. 

_It was a shitty situation, but that's it._

It hadn't been her fault. It hadn't been his.

_And that was the way it went._

It had been a hell of a lot easier when she had been able to blame him. That way she wouldn't have to face it. She could live off her hatred; it could keep her sane. Now that she'd been stripped of it all, she felt oddly empty. Maybe that was how she was supposed to feel so many years ago when she'd found Oliver had been murdered. Maybe instead of enraged at the world and filled with disgust, it was supposed to be this quiet, maddening desperation and pain only endured through silent acceptance. 

It had been five years since her husband had died and only now was she learning to deal with it. It was beyond twisted. 

Katie docked the small boat near the edge of the lake and lowered the anchor with a tap of her wand. It was superfluous, but just in case the river got especially irate today. They were a half day's hike from Zuwanga now. From here they could probably take the smaller boat to shore and take a good look at the wildlife before packing in and finding their way into the Wizarding park. 

Yes. She knew the tour was a complete sham but she planned on finishing it anyway. She didn't know what else to do. 

She heard steps behind her, but didn't bother turning around. 

Within seconds, Flint had appeared beside her. 

He slanted his gray eyes to look her over and said frankly, "You don't have to do this. I'm going to give you the money." 

Katie froze for a millisecond, taken by surprise, before resuming her preparations for the small boat. 

"Bell?" Flint growled in irritance. 

She swallowed harshly. 

"I'm giving you the money," Flint said again, this time louder, as if she hadn't heard the first time.

"Why?" She managed to ask. She threw in the last few trail packs and began loosening the ropes tying the smaller boat down.

"I told you I promised Wood I'd make sure you were all right, didn't I?" Flint sighed. 

"I don't take charity," Katie said dismissively. 

Flint snorted in disbelief. Then pointed out, "Your entire foundation is _built on charity, Bell. Or is it you won't take charity from a ****__Flint?" _

Katie's hands jerked. 

"Can't help hating me, is it? It's been burned into you?" Flint sneered. 

Even after she'd resolved to forgive him, he could make her madder than anyone she knew. She had lived her life without emotion for the last five years but one smirk from Flint could send her into a fit of titanic proportions. 

"Don't push me, Flint. If you don't want to get your money's worth, it's your loss," Katie snapped. 

"Look at me when you talk to me, Bell," Flint said flatly.

Katie flinched, "No." 

"My money isn't worth shit to me. You can take it all if you want," Flint snarled. 

"I told you, I don't take charity," Katie ground out. 

She didn't have a chance to argue, because he'd grabbed her hands away from the roping she was trying to unknot and jerked her around to face him. She gasped and twisted away from him vainly. 

"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?" Flint snapped. 

"Let go of me," Katie hissed as she jerked backwards. 

Flint followed her fluidly and retained his grip on her effortlessly. She struggled against him, refusing to give in to his superior leer. After minutes of thrashing with no result, she finally slackened against him in defeat.

She was so tired. 

His grip on her loosened, but she didn't move. She did the unthinkable and later blamed it on her exhaustion. She leaned forward and sank into Flint's reassuring warmth and solidity. She couldn't remember the last time she'd willingly made human contact for comfort, but she was so damn tired. 

"I hate you," she muttered hoarsely.

Flint couldn't help but smirk at her statement. The girl would never give up. That was something he had to admire. When she went down, she went down fighting tooth and nail every inch of the way. 

"I know," Flint sighed painfully.

They sank to the deck of the boat. 

"Because… I can't _hate _you anymore," she said quietly. 

Flint paused.

"What?" 

"It's not your fault. And it never really was. It was just easier for me to blame you than actually deal with it," Katie sighed. 

Flint released his hold on her wrists and snaked his arms around her slender back as Katie closed her eyes. She hadn't slept all night. 

Flint remained silent, thinking to himself. The news that she didn't hate him or blame him anymore should've been something to smile over but instead, he was growing more desperate by the second. 

"Go home, Bell. Let it go. It's over," Flint finally muttered. 

That was when she started crying. 

She cried for what seemed like an eternity, with Flint quietly rocking her to sleep. 

She couldn't remember what happened next. Everything was blurred together, but she remembered kissing him and being kissed in return. Heated exchanges in the early morning light. His hands on her face. His mouth on her. Hands roaming in places that hadn't been touched in years. Muttered curses and flashing gray eyes. Exquisite torture. Then nothing. 

And she woke up in her own bed two days later. Out of the jungle. Alone. And without Marcus Flint to haunt her dreams anymore. 

It had been the first time in five years she'd slept peacefully, her night demons gone.


	6. Confrontations

**_A/N:_**_ Of course I wouldn't leave you like that! *evil cackle* _

**_Disclaimer: I make no money. I take no credit. So, uhm, yeah. Big, fat, unnecessary: NOT MINE!_**

The Confrontation

It had been a week since she'd seen Flint. 

_Yes_, Katie thought in slight disgust, _I've counted._

What happened between them remained a mystery to her. All she could recollect was his mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, and the morning chill fading beneath him. She couldn't actually remember anything _happening though. It was a blur of motions, pictures twisting together and branded with memory-like sensations. _

She flushed whenever she thought of it. And him. 

It was a mystery. _Flint__ was a mystery. _

She didn't know whether she'd closed that chapter in her life or if there was more to it. For someone who had always considered herself fearless, she now lacked the initiative and self-assurance she'd always managed to fake so well. 

_What did you get yourself into Katie girl? _Katie thought bitterly. 

"Well, whatever you did, it worked." 

Jerked from her thoughts by none other than Charlie Weasley.

He grinned lopsidedly at her and tossed her a thin manila folder. She caught it easily, and flipped it open on her desk.

"Did what?" She mumbled as she stared blankly at the numbers in front of her.

"With Mr. Flint," Charlie said with a slight roll of his eyes. He leaned himself against the edge of her desk and pointed to the sudden influx of money that had been donated to the wildlife foundations.

Katie frowned. 

"What _did you do to the poor bastard anyway?" Charlie winked playfully._

Katie flinched. Lucky for her, Charlie wasn't too keen on her sudden silence. He, like many of her friends, was used to it. 

"I didn't do anything. I don't know why he decided to support us," she lied blandly. But she was so good at it that nobody would ever know otherwise.

"What? Did you charm him into donating half his billions?" Charlie chuckled. 

Katie closed the folder gently and stared at the top of her desk. 

"Where is he now?" She finally said.

"What?" Charlie turned to look at her. 

"Where is Flint?" She said after clearing her throat. 

"Who knows, probably back at his flat torturing his poor servants into hell and back," Charlie shrugged. 

Katie stiffened at Charlie's careless insinuation. 

He stood up suddenly and took a step towards her, his blue eyes shining with the good-nature so often attributed to his family. 

"So how about a little celebration, eh?" Charlie reached out and tugged the ends of her sherry blonde hair good-humoredly. 

The man certainly had a disarming grin but Katie's mind was elsewhere.

"I need to see him," she said matter-of-factly.

Charlie gave her an intense frowned and blurted, "Why?" 

"To discuss his current change of heart and our brief escapade in the jungle," Katie said sternly.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, sweets. Flint's out of our hair. We've got the money to keep the parks going. Gilberton's been booted in place of, ohlookithat, **me. We can be happy without complications now, Katie girl!" Charlie picked her up and spun her around in a mock attempt at dancing. **

Katie stiffened, and Charlie, though pleasantly oblivious at times, wasn't moronic enough to dismiss it. 

He sighed and put her back down. 

"Charlie…"

"I guess asking you to dinner would be a bad idea then?" 

"I'm sorry." She said softly. 

"It's not your fault, Kates," Charlie smiled, chagrined. __

The contempt Katie had felt for herself over the past few days only magnified itself. 

"I can't make you care, can I? I just thought … after all this time, that Wood… sorry, Oliver, wouldn't be an issue anymore. I'm dafter than I look, eh?" Charlie sighed.

She motioned with her hands helplessly when Charlie interrupted. 

"Flint's address is filed away. If you want to Floo over or anything, just ask someone to open the grate and you're in. Hope it goes well, but if you need anything, just owl. I've got work to do anyway. There's some rampaging siren I need to take care of," Charlie said.

He walked out of her office quietly and left Katie alone to her dastardly thoughts.

Flint, it turned out, was a lot harder to find than she'd thought.

The elves at his manor had told her he hadn't been back in months. He hadn't worn his Falcon robes in years, none of his former teammates knew where he was. Even his aunt and uncle claimed to have cut him out of their lives years ago. So where was he?

Katie found him in a small, rented flat in a densely populated Muggle area in London. 

She had overlooked the tiny printed address in his file earlier because she had dismissed it as an afterthought. The purchased date had ranged so far back into the years of the War that she'd automatically assumed he'd been running a Deatheater errand, or perhaps even Ministry business, in that tiny flat by himself. 

Well, she was wrong. As she often was when it came to Marcus Flint.

The door jerked open haphazardly after the first three quick knocks.

The slanted, shadowy face of a man appeared in the doorway as it was pulled open a crack.

She heard the sharp intake of breath, the hushed profanity, and the sound of bare feet on hardwood as Flint stepped back and fully opened the door. 

"What're you doing here?" Flint asked sharply.

Katie froze at the sight of his bare chest. The sleek pair of black trousers he wore left him awfully exposed. She swallowed harshly and forced herself to look him full in the face, but even his gray eyes were unnerving.

"We need to talk," Katie blurted, then grimaced. She sounded like some ninny bird intent on sinking her relationship with a man. 

Flint stepped backwards and swung an arm outwards, mockingly motioning for her to enter. 

She did promptly and watched him shut the door behind her. 

Flint looked her up and down with a wry smirk before turning around and stalking off to seat himself in a chair facing an open window. He propped his feet on the windowsill, picked up a bottle of firewhiskey standing by the leg of the faded, green-coloured couch, and stared outside with a blank expression on his face.

Katie stared at him in silence. 

It was strange, seeing him propped in such a tacky chair, with the white curtains around the window drifting lazily around him, carried by a gentle breeze from the city. The noise of the night life managed to float into the room, and filtered patterns of cars driving by and flashing lights from stores below moved like brilliant shadows on the dark walls. It looked like such a moment of peace.

She gave into the silence first.

"What happened?" Katie asked after clearing her throat.

She heard the alcohol swirl in his hand as he took a hearty swig.

"Nothing," he answered with a slight shift of his shoulders.

Katie couldn't help but notice how broad and thickly muscled they were. She could even remember how they had felt beneath her hands.

"Bollocks," she snapped. 

"Well, if you think so, why ask me?" Flint snorted. 

"Because…" She paused. "Because I don't remember."

"Figures," he muttered.

"I need to know."

"Well, I just told you, Bell. Maybe if you paid attention you'd know. Or perhaps you don't understand the concept. Nothing. Nothing happened."

"We…"

"Snogged for a bit, yeah."

"But you didn't…"

"Take advantage of a hysterical bird? No, unfortunately, though I can't say I don't regret it."

"So we didn't…"

"No and no again, Bell. We might've lost our heads a little in the beginning, but I had the sense knocked into me when you said his name. You fell asleep. I took it upon myself to go back and left you at your place out of common courtesy.. That's it," Flint snarled.

"Said who's name?" Katie asked blindly, her stomach sinking, even though she already knew.

"Who do you think?" Flint snapped.

"Oli--"

"That's fucking right, _Oliver's_."

"Marcus, I didn't know what I was doing!" Katie said angrily as she stalked over to his chair and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey from his hand. 

She was sick of talking to the back of his head. 

"You didn't need to tell me that. If you did you would never have touched me. Is that it? Another nail in the coffin?" Flint snarled.

"Good Godric, I'm never going to find the nerve to forgive you if you keep provoking me!" Katie shouted heatedly. 

"How charitable of you, Miss Katherine, to _forgive _a Flint like me."

"You keep pushing me, Flint, and you'll be sorry."

"Oh?" He sneered.

"I came here to talk," she said in steely resolution.

"Well, fuck! Isn't that just your bad luck, because I'm not in the mood. Leave your grievances at the door," he said dismissively and jerked the bottle back from her. 

She could _smell _the alcohol on him.

"How much have you had to drink?" She asked in disbelief.

"None of your fucking business, now go before I do something I really will regret," Flint glared at her. 

"Make me," she said succinctly and froze.

She had no idea what had prompted her into making such an asinine comment. Flint's temper was at its breaking point, he was half-drunk, and here she was, taunting the dragon. 

His gray eyes seemed to smolder in the darkness as he slowly licked the taste of liquor off his lips and stared at her. She hadn't even felt his free hand twist in her hair as his other hand lowered the bottle of firewhiskey onto the floor with a dull clunk. 

"That was a very stupid thing to say, little girl." 


	7. The Whirlwind

**_A/N:_**_ Okay, need to get a few things out here. First off, **THIS CHAPTER IS RATED R.** And secondly, I feel like this is getting **too angsty** but whatever. I shall forge ahead and see what comes outta this. There are some painful inconsistencies thus far, too. Katie is blonde but when I first started writing I portrayed her as more of a, well, "brunette." Just ignore any of that. And for the years, Oliver died like five and a half years ago. _

_Oh, and real quick…_

**_talkytalkyme__ – *evil cackle*… We'll find out what (or who) __Bell__ wants, m'dear. =)_**

**_Scarlett_****_ Darling_**_ – I would never leave a fic like that! I'd kill ME if I was you reading it and it nuclear bombed on me like that for a piss poor excuse of an ending. Hahaha, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!_

**_Sugar-coated Sushi_**_ – Thanx for the enthusiastic/fantastic/totally encouraging reviews! Sorry for making you wait so long but I'm currently getting slammed by midterms. Ack!_

**_XxSToRmYxX_**_ – I don't know if you'll be reading this anytime soon, but you are too fabulous. Thanx for going through the trouble just for me. I couldn't believe it when I read it. Hahaha._

**_Sara-Wackadoo_**_ – Much thanx for the featurette on your site, and torturing you guys is so much fun! _

**_Daphne _**_– Nooo, I wouldn't leave y'all hanging like that. ;)_

**_And to everyone else who commented and added me to some list _**_as well, you guys rock my world. Seriously. _

_Spanking good.__ Let's get a move on!_

**_Disclaimer: Totally not mine. If it were, man, I'd be one happy mofo of a billionaire._**

The Whirlwind

Flint was tired of trying to be the nice guy. He'd spent most of his life being an asshole, and even though people were scared as fuck of him, at least he'd gotten what he'd wanted. With Bell, no matter how gentlemanly he was, it didn't do him any good and trying to be civil to her was too hard to strive for anymore. 

When he had seen her outside his door, it was like she'd stepped out from his very thoughts, a light in the fading darkness. But she was something he'd never have. Good things happened to good people, and Flint knew he wasn't good people. 

The only way to make her go away was to feign disinterest, but the girl just couldn't take a hint. She'd gotten her pretty little arse right into his rampaging face and glared at him until he couldn't ignore her anymore and Salazar only knew what the hell he'd do if he could get his hands on her. 

You just didn't fuck with his brooding time. 

Unless you were Katie Bell. 

And mock him until he lost his temper.

Unless you were Katie Bell. 

Sweet Salazar, the woman made him see red every time she opened her mouth. 

Flint stared at her, waiting for her to back down, shut the fuck up, and get out of his flat. Unfortunately, what he got was a contemptuous, defiant stare. _How the hell did everything he plan backfire with her?_

Katie took in a shaky breath and swallowed. 

"Flint?" 

"Marcus," he rumbled. 

"What?" Katie shot him a puzzled look and tried to ease out of his tenuous hold on her. 

"I liked it better when you called me Marcus."

He took a long, hard look at her and let go of her hair, picking his bottle of firewhiskey back up. He grinned sourly to himself. After this he was going to have to treat himself to something nice because he never thought his resolute will could've stood so much from the fiery Ms. Bell. Especially since all he thought about around her was getting into her knickers.

"All right, _Marcus_. **Nothing happened," she said frostily. She straightened and stepped back.**

There was that tone again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Flint snapped, rising to the bait. 

"Nothing. I'd think you could understand the concept you tried so hard to explain to me previously." She was throwing his words right back at him.

"Don't push it," he said hoarsely. Feeling his temper rising, rising, rising… 

She threw a scathing look at him and grabbed his firewhiskey again. Flint watched as she took an unusually large swill, finishing off the bottle, before bursting into a fit of coughing. She swiped at her tearing eyes while she began her loud tirade. "If you want to be an asshole and sit there and feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your bloody life, go right ahead. I don't know why I ever thought you were worth a second chance, because obviously you don't care. You'd rather be alone and miserable than actually face whatever it is that's chasing you. I never thought you'd be such a spineless--"

"Shut up," Flint growled gutturally. 

"Fuck you. Don't tell me to shut up. You shut up. Don't yell at me because I'm right--"

"_You don't know anything about me," Flint roared. _

"I know you're a scared little--"

Flint had moved so fast she hadn't even been able to react. 

He jerked the bottle out of her hand, sending her crashing into him, as his mouth took hers in a violent attempt to make her shut up. He used the subtle pressure of his mouth and stroked his tongue over hers ruthlessly. He had, of course, only meant to stem the flow of words pouring from her mouth but he should've known better. As soon as he got his hands on her, he went insane, and even the sharp, coppery taste of blood couldn't stop him. 

The truth was he was just drunk enough to jump her, but not drunk enough to pass out. 

Katie slung her arms around his bare back to steady herself. The feel of every hard muscle, bunched together and perfectly sculpted, made her sigh in approval. She heard the distant sound of glass meeting wood as he dropped the bottle to wrap an arm around her waist, the other going to her hair. 

He bore her down to the ground, never taking his mouth off hers. She whimpered at the feel of the cold floor beneath her, but forgot about her discomfort when she felt his hard hands on the zipper of her jeans. He didn't give her a chance to protest, unbuttoning, unzipping, undressing…

They were caught in the same whirlwind and she just didn't care anymore. 

She arched upwards to aid him in pulling down her jeans, and he reached for the fastenings on his own pants. He tore at the buttons and kicked his trousers off in a heated rush. 

She felt her hands on him and cried out as he thrust into her viciously. He felt utterly savage, stoked by the need he'd carried for her for so many years. Even in his drunken frenzy, he knew he should stop but he couldn't have, even if he _had tried._

He rode her hard, reveling in the way she lifted her hips to match his frenzied rhythm. In the dark, both their doggedness had cracked and he pounded into her relentlessly. Her nails dug into the smooth planes of his back, her legs locked around his waist, and her body bowed beneath him as she climaxed hard and fast, completely taken by surprise.

Flint followed her lead, bent down and kissed her hard, letting the taste of her blood sink into him, as he stiffened and emptied himself into her. It seemed like an eternity before he finally fell over on top of her. 

Her slender arms were still wrapped around his back and silence surrounded them like a peaceful cocoon. She couldn't even being to explain what the hell had just happened. She had asked for it, but she had wanted it, too. She breathed in shallow whispers because his weight was still boring down on her. 

"Marcus?" She said quietly, kissing his shoulder softly.

He rolled his hips against her slowly, making her gasp harshly. 

"Not now, Bell. I'm not done with you yet." 

"What do you mean?" 

He showed her. 


	8. Meeting Mates

**_A/N_**_: Thanx for the reviews. Midterms suckity suck suck._

**_Disclaimer: If only _****_Flint_****_ was mine… If only. Curses. _**

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Meeting Mates

Someone was knocking on the door to his flat. Well, it started out as knocking, now it sounded like plain cursing and smacking and kicking.

_Of all the days to get a fucking morning visitor…___

Flint looked livid as he rolled out of bed and slipped into the closest pair of pants. He took a quiet moment to stare at Katie's peaceful form asleep beneath the covers before turning around and stalking out of the bedroom. He closed the door behind him softly, wary of waking her when he turned around and came face-to-face with Terence Higgs, an old school mate and close friend of his. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Flint muttered. He shot Higgs a furious look.

"I let myself in, thanks," Higgs said cheerfully.

"What **_the hell_ are you doing here?" Flint repeated, slightly louder.**

"Thought you were having troubles," Higgs shrugged as he noisily slumped into one of the couches littered around the practically bare room.

"Would you quiet down?" Flint snapped.

"Why? Ya got company?" Higgs grinned wryly as he kicked off his shoes and reached for a pack of cigarettes smashed into his coat pocket. 

"As a matter of fact, I do." His tone was arctic. On a regular day, a visit from the Arrows' Seeker would've made him grin and given him liable reason to get pissed out of his mind, but now was _not _a good time.

"That's no way to greet an old mate, _mate_." 

Higgs yawned and placed the fag in his mouth, snapping his brown eyes shut, and leaning backwards onto the couch.

"I'm not having any fucking troubles," Flint said dryly. 

"Well that's obvious," Higgs said sarcastically.

Flint flipped him off as he sat down in the chair across from the cocky Seeker.

"Trouble's a-comin,'" Higgs said with a slight tilt of his head. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Puce rang the other day and said we should give you a bell to see how you were about." Higgs lit the cigarette with a small charm from the tip of his wand and frowned. 

"Why the hell would Adrian "_God" Pucey want to do that?" Flint smirked. _

Higgs continued, "Well, he said he'd gotten a visit from, _wouldn't ya know it, Katie Bell. This was odd because it just so happened that she'd been to see me, too, so this wasn't coincidence or anything. We owled the rest of the boys and it turned out she'd been to see Montague, Warrington, Bletchley, Derrick, Bole, Nott, Goyle… You name it, she's been there! Even fucking **_Malfoy_. She's been traipsing around our backyards asking all of us if we've seen ya, know where you are and whatnot."**_

With that, Higgs rolled his eyes. 

"And?" Flint prompted. 

"**_And_… we didn't know if we should tell her or not so I decided to drop by and ask you myself, like the great man I am. We want to know what the fuck is up? What the hell does she want with you, mate? Is she sniffing out the will?" Higgs drawled. **

Flint stiffened. 

"Shut your trap if you know what's good for you, Higgs," Flint growled. 

"Well, does she know about it or not?" Higgs rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Flint scowled.

"Y'know, if getting a good fuck still puts you in such a bad mood, I think I liked you loads better when you were just plain randy," Higgs snickered. 

_"She's in **there." **_

Higgs sat up after that comment, his face thunderstruck, the cigarette dangling from his open mouth. He shot Flint an impressed look and finally got the hint to lower his voice into a whisper, rasping out, "You fucked _the_ Katie Bell?"

"_Shut your trap, Higgs." _

"Holy fuckaroo, mate. And she has _no idea about the money?"_

Flint was on the verge of beating the damn Seeker's face in.

"No, she doesn't know, and it's going to stay that way," Flint grated out in irritancy.

"I bow to your superior will. Y'know we had a pool going, right? Or a bet, at least. Looks like Montague takes the cake. He was the only one that said you'd be able to do it," Higgs grinned.

"I'm going to kill all of you," Flint muttered.

"Nott said you might. But shit, fuck no. I never thought you'd get her in your bed so fast," Higgs shook his head with a slight chuckle.

"How many days left?" Flint asked.

"Seventeen I think, at most anyway," Higgs shrugged.

"Seventeen..."

"So when's the wedding?" 

Katie awoke to the sound of a glass smashing.

She sat up sharply and glanced nervously at the clock on the bedstand. It was almost noon. She'd never slept that late before. She smiled wryly to herself, but quickly frowned when she realized she was naked in Flint's bed and he was probably throwing a tantrum in the next room. Dear Godric, what had she gotten herself into? The last thing she wanted was to confront him _now_, but she'd asked for it. She didn't have much choice after what happened last night. Thinking about it could make her blush… She was proving it by the second.

He had been insatiable last night. She had the marks to prove it.

She slipped out from beneath the rumpled covers and reached for an oversized button-down of his thrown casually over a chair. She looked avidly for her knickers before finally finding them tucked beneath the bed.

Katie straightened her hair restlessly and took a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob.

_Here goes nothing…_

She opened the door and was greeted by the sound of laughter.

Katie froze in shock at the sight of Flint _laughing. Marcus Flint. Laughing. His face was broken out into a smile, his white slightly-crooked teeth peeked through, and the edges of his eyes crinkled in amusement. Thank Godric he never smiled. She would've fallen too hard too fast for the wrong person. __Like you aren't doing it anyway, she frowned. She'd never been so stunned in her life and at that moment, she wished everything could be different. She wished that she could see him laugh all the time. She wished she could be the one making him do so. And she wished she could laugh with him._

There was another man in the room, too. Terence Higgs. He'd been at least three or four years ahead of her when she'd attended Hogwarts. She remembered he had played Seeker for the vicious Slytherin team before graduating and being recruited by the Appleby Reserve.

Higgs cleared his throat as his puppy brown eyes caught sight of Katie in the bedroom doorway. 

Flint stopped abruptly and Katie blushed when he caught her eye.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know I was interrupting anything," Katie stammered.

Flint lowered his gaze and stood up.

"This is Higgs. Or Terence," Flint said, clearing his throat.

"Terence," Higgs said as he followed Flint's lead and stood up. He offered a handshake and watched as she chewed the bottom of her lip nervously and reached for his hand. They shook, with Flint's stony gaze settling on her again. 

"I remember you. Do you still play?" Katie asked. 

Higgs winced and dramatically held a hand to his heart as if she'd just shot him.

"A true blow," Higgs grinned, shaking his head playfully.

"Now you've gone and offended him," Flint snorted.

"Well, if you can't answer an honest-to-Godric question like that, maybe you're not good enough for me to remember," Katie said as she rolled her eyes.

Flint snickered. Higgs stared at her in disbelief, then burst out into laughter. 

"Oh, I like her," Higgs grinned. 

"Should I be flattered?" Katie smiled, despite herself. For the first time in months, years even, she was smiling because she was actually happy.

"Oh, yeah, Higgs is a woman-hater," Flint said. His lip twisted up sardonically as he sat back down to the couch and picked up another bottle of firewhiskey. Katie frowned at the bottle but soon found his thick arm circled around her waist and pulling her down onto his lap. 

Higgs snorted and retorted with a, "Tell that to my fanclub." 

"So you do still play. For the Arrows then?" Katie asked.

"Yeah, starting Seeker, thank you very much," Higgs grinned cheekily as he settled back into his seat, too.

Higgs watched in veiled disinterest at the possessive stance Flint maintained on Bell. Flint was blatantly staring at his quarry and she didn't even notice it. That was a bit funny, but then again, Higgs had been told he had a poor sense of humour. 

"You shouldn't drink in the morning," Katie frowned as she stared at the bottle in growing disapproval.

"It wakes me up," Flint said flatly.

"There are other ways to wake up," she said pointedly. 

Flint growled in response.

Higgs couldn't help grinning. 

He had thought that Flint would have a hard time with his father's will, but apparently, he was very, very wrong. Flint was obviously going to breeze through his little clause without a single flinch and it was all so apparent… 

"I should get going," Higgs said as he stood up, stretching out his lanky form. 

Flint frowned but nodded. He stood up and the two gave each other a quick, brotherly embrace. 

"Good luck, mate," Higgs said with a shake of his head, secretly thinking… _In more ways then one._

He Apparated and left Flint and Bell alone. Again. 


	9. Surprises

**_A/N: _**_I should be studying Chem and doing Bio/Psych but… Whatever. Potential foreshadowing EVERYWHERE. *evil cackle*_

**_Disclaimer: Still not mine, but I'm over it so move along._**

Surprises

"I want to show you something," Flint said gruffly. 

Katie slanted her cornflower blue eyes toward him and arched a slender brow upwards. The silence had gotten to be unbearable within seconds of Higgs' Apparating. She just didn't know what to say. 

"Get dressed," Flint said as he stood up. 

Katie's eyes narrowed as she felt her temper flare in defiance, but she did as told. She slipped back into Flint's room and pulled on her clothing from yesterday, trying not to remember how long it'd taken to shed them with Flint's hands on her. 

Flint had slipped into a crisp, white shirt after dunking his head in cold water, vainly trying to set himself right. 

"Where are we going?" Katie asked. Her voice was hoarse from silence. 

Flint looked at her slightly rumpled appearance, taking in her morning glow, the soft pout of her frown, and almost felt himself grin until he saw the marks on her neck, the cut on her lower lip… Nasty reminders that he had ruined something else that was once good in the world. 

"Know where my place is?" Flint asked matter-of-factly.

She nodded slowly, staring at him suspiciously. 

"Can you Apparate there all right?" He asked, unconsciously reaching out to brush back a stray piece of blonde hair hanging by her ear.

Katie nodded.

And with a CRACK, both of them disappeared.

Flint had never been nervous about anything in his life. But right now, he was scared out of his mind.

_What if this didn't work? What if she said no? _

They had both Apparated into the foyer of his manor mansion. The house elves immediately took it upon themselves to greet him overenthusiastically but he politely declined their invitations with a curt, "Later."

He turned back to look at Katie, feeling the air vibrate with tension between them. 

Flint turned to one particularly suspicious looking house elf and muttered a quick command in its ear before it scampered away. 

"Come." 

Flint extended his hand towards her and was pleased to see her take it without hesitation. This is where she belonged. With him. And if everything went as planned, that's where she'd stay. Forever. Salazar only knew he didn't want the errors of his forefathers to follow him to the grave. He silently prayed that he wouldn't have to suffer their sins. He prayed that she wouldn't have to suffer them either. She deserved better than that. 

He led her onto the veranda out back. From there, she could see every inch of the estate that should rightfully be his. The gentle rolling hills, the opaque surface of the lake, the clear sky, the woods in the distance… Everything that brought a man peace.

"It's beautiful," Katie said softly.

Flint hummed in acknowledgement. 

She was absolutely transfixed with the lake. She'd always loved to swim and she could swear it was calling out to her, singing to her hopeless soul. Everything seemed so bleak. How could she enjoy anything when the sure knowledge that Flint was about to crush her ridiculous fancies was bearing down on her like a malevolent storm. 

"Do you like swimming?" Katie asked awkwardly.

"Yes."

"Do you go swimming much?" Katie asked. 

Flint looked at her sharply, and said, "No. Not in that lake. My sister drowned in it." 

Katie flinched. Leave it to her to bring up the wrong subject at the wrong time. 

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Not your fault, is it?"

"Marcus."

"Bell."

Simultaneously.

Katie cleared her throat, "You go first." 

"I didn't mean to be so violent last night," Flint said blandly. 

Katie felt herself blush against her will, "You didn't hurt me." 

"Bullshit."

"No, honestly. You _didn't _hurt me," Katie restated firmly. 

Flint openly stared at her. 

"I can see the bruises," he said flatly. 

Katie froze as he lifted a hand to her face and ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then traced the bruises on her neck. He stared at her. His gray eyes seemed ablaze with some unnamed emotion she didn't dare label. Katie swallowed harshly. From one second to the next, he'd fitted their mouths together seamlessly and Katie was feeling everything spiral away again, like it always did with him. 

They were interrupted by the house elf Flint had sent darting away. It shakily placed something in Flint's outstretched, and clearly impatient, hand before running off again. 

Katie's nerves were completely shot. 

"Marcus, I think I should go. It was nice of you to show me your home. I appreciate the gesture, but I should be in the office…" She blurted before she was interrupted.

"That's not what I wanted to show you." 

She shot him a puzzled expression as he gently caressed her cheek and tucked a green velvet box into her palm with his free hand. He watched as she lifted it and slowly slid it open. 

She inhaled sharply at the sight of the diamond ring winking back at her. 

"It was my _mother's_," he said, a little too harshly. 

"No, Flint, this isn't--"

"I've wanted you since you were fifteen," Flint said. He leaned in towards her until his lips were brushing the shell of her ear, watching her carefully. 

Her eyes finally met his and shock was written onto every line of her face. 

"I know it's fast, but I've waited so long for you. I tried to stay away, y'know. But it didn't work. I thought Wood would send me packing, but no, I just ended up hating him even more and watching you live your dream life with him from my window. You don't know how much I wanted." Flint's confession was bringing warmth back to her frozen body. 

"I don't know. It's--"

"Don't you think it's time to put it behind us? Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe we were supposed to happen, too. It's time to let it go, Katie." 

"I don't know what to say…"

"Say yes," Flint prompted. 

"To this?" Katie stared at the ring in astonishment. 

"No." He kissed her hard and fast before saying, "To _this_: Will you marry me, Katherine Emma Bell?"

For the first time in five years, Katie felt herself laughing from genuine happiness. She dismissed the fact that it was so rushed. She never noticed how suspicious it seemed for him to push something like this. She completely overlooked the fact that he'd just spoken her middle name, and all because she was genuinely happy.

"Yes." 


	10. A Bell's Duty

**_A/N:_**_ Yes, I'm back. Sorry for the big update delay. Time got away from me again and it just got so hectic. Don't anyone ever tell you freshman year of college is easy 'cause it ain't. Anyways, this was a history chapter. The next one is probably going to be a history chapter, too. I'm just taking care of loose ends. It'll make sense eventually. Don't worry, kiddies. I've got it under control. Hahaha. _

**_Disclaimer: This hasn't changed. No. No. No. And no. _**

A Bell's Duty

Katie was not looking forward to this particular visit. In fact, she never really looked forward to any visits with her grandmother. Imogene Bell was as ruthless as she was cold and Katie had decided by her ninth birthday that her guardian grandmother was without a heart. 

Imogene had a long and removed history in the Bell chronicles. Born and bred into the wealth of purebloods, she had been raised with the narrow-minded belief that Muggles and half-bloods were not up to Magic par and thus disassociated herself with any of the sort. She had tried to impress the same train of thought upon her rebellious son, Robert, Katie's father, but he married a Muggle against Imogene's will in his early twenties and was thusly, cast out of Imogene's life. She had branded him an exile in aloof shame. 

The two would never have crossed paths again if Robert and his young wife hadn't died in the War against Voldemort. Within a week after the Bells' untimely demise, eight-year-old Katie had been sent away to her future home: Bell Manor.

It turned out to be more of a nightmare than a dream come true. Imogene resented Katie as much as she resented her mother. Having disowned Robert for marrying Emma, Imogene never truly forgave Katie for being the constant reminder of her failed relationship with her deceased son. Consequently, Imogene had raised her granddaughter without emotion or tenderness, simply cultivating proper and improper behavior in the Bell Heir. 

As soon as Katie had been able to support herself, she had left Imogene without a second glance. And now the heir to the Bell fortune had to return to tell her grandmother the wonderful news: she was getting married. To a Flint. 

Katie took another deep breath and reached for the doorbell. She noticed the fine tremor of her hand and frowned. She straightened her slender shoulders and rang the bell in a flustered rush, afraid of losing her nerve if she paused to think again.

The huge door leading to the entrance of the Manor swung open immediately. A timid looking house elf she recognized as Stebby smiled toothily at her and stepped aside to let her in. She walked in and was swamped by memories of her unhappy childhood. Hogwarts had been a refuge for her, the only place she ever appreciated. _Thank Godric for that much._

Stebby scurried towards the direction of her grandmother's study. 

Katie followed reluctantly, knowing the way well enough by herself. 

The halls fell silent as the pittering of tiny feet stopped abruptly. Katie turned the corner and saw Stebby's enormous eyes staring up at her. He pushed open a huge oak paneled door and stepped to the side, holding out a frail arm and bowing furiously as she walked by. 

The study was dimly lit and smelled of musty, old scrolls and leather. A rusty fire in the corner illuminated the dark corners of the room. 

Katie froze when her gaze met the blue steel ones of her grandmother's. Imogene looked as refined and pure as she did the day Katie had stepped into Bell Manor, only now creased lines and dark circles, thinning white hair and a permanent frown, had been etched into her features. She looked old, worn, and tired.

Just like Katie. 

"Hello, Grandmother," Katie said, ironing out the tremor in her voice.

"Katherine," Imogene nodded curtly and motioned for Katie to sit down across from her beside the fire. 

"I won't be staying long. I came to tell you something important," Katie said firmly as she clasped her hands together.

"Manners, Katherine. A lady always has time for tea," Imogene said curtly.

Katie hesitated but finally sat down stiffly in front of her grandmother. Imogene snapped her elegant fingers and a pair of house elves carrying an enormous silver tray with a fine china tea set scurried into the room. They placed it on the table beside Imogene's elbow and disappeared.

Imogene took her time pouring the tea and handed Katie her cup and saucer. 

"Now, what was so important?" Imogene asked, a gray brow arching neatly upwards in question.

"I'm getting married, and I would like for you to be there," Katie said as calmly as possible.

The clink of china on metal was the only sound made as Imogene set her tea down and looked up at her granddaughter. Even in surprise she retained her magnanimous dignity and ladylike appearance.

"Oh?" Imogene cleared her throat.

"Yes…" Katie paused.

"To?"

"Marcus Flint."

That merited Imogene's infamous pebbly stare. 

Katie sat in silence, waiting for her grandmother's reaction.

"I forbid it," Imogene finally snapped.

"You're not my guardian anymore. It's my life," Katie supplied smoothly. She had expected worse.

"Out of respect for me, for this family, you will do _no such thing," Imogene said harshly. _

"I didn't come with the intention to upset you, but it doesn't change my--"

"Didn't come with the intention?" Imogene bit angrily. 

"Please. He's changed. He's not--"

"Don't you remember what he did to your first husband?" Imogene snapped; she hadn't like Oliver much either. 

"It wasn't his fault."

"Wasn't his fault? I thought that would be enough to show you the colors of his character but apparently not. Don't you know history, you foolish girl?" Imogene was on the verge of shouting. Her composure was rapidly cracking.

Katie hadn't expected such a severe reaction to develop.

"You can't blame what happened to Ollie on him! It was war, Imogene. People die," Katie argued.

"**_Do you know who killed your father?_" Imogene inhaled sharply.**

Katie paused. 

"_Cassius Flint. The __father of the _trash _you are going to **marry**!" Imogene hissed. _

There was a snap as Imogene motioned her wand towards the bookshelf behind Katie. A heavy, leather-bound book flew across the air into her grandmother's hands. It fell open and dust rose in a thin cloud as pages spun by rapidly, pushed by invisible fingers. The muted sound of paper over paper stopped as the flipping ceased. 

"Look at that picture. That's _your _father and your _fiancé's_ father. They played on the same professional team before the war started. Cassius betrayed your father's loyalties after I told him Flints couldn't be trusted and look where it got him. Dead. Him and your precious Muggle-born mother. _Dead_. That man is the reason you came to me. Can you see that, you foolish girl?" Imogene explained in growing annoyance. 

Katie didn't even flinch. 

She was amazed at her own sense of calm, her own serene grasp on things, especially when Imogene looked ready to explode. The truth was… she just didn't care anymore. She didn't care about Flint's history. She didn't care about whose father did what anymore. She didn't want the old ties, the old feuds. 

It had done nothing but bring her grandmother loneliness and grief. 

Katie didn't want it. 

"It doesn't matter," Katie said.

Imogene stared in shock at her granddaughter, seemingly unable to grasp this concept.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? You don't care." She snapped angrily. "I should've known better. Your father never listened and your mother… I don't even need to start with--"

"I told you because I want you to come to the wedding. I can understand if you don't. But this doesn't change anything. I'm marrying him with or without your consent," Katie said. She got to her feet and heard Imogene's sharp intake of breath.

"Katherine Bell… Don't you dare turn your back on me. You're making the same mistake your father made."

Katie swallowed, turned around, and walked out to the shouting of her livid benefactor. 

Her duty as a Bell was over. 


	11. Serpent Reunion

**_A/N:_**_ And the stage is set. Hopefully it makes sense. It's a very chaotic setting with lots of ex-Slytherins and the like. Sorta like a big bachelor congrats party for our buddy boy __Flint__. Everyone's favorite House. *evil grin* _

**_Disclaimer: Nuh uh. Nope. I don't own a bloody thing and for that I'm eternally sorry._**

Serpent Reunion

"A toast to Flint!" 

The uproar quieted down as Adrian Pucey staggered to his feet. He held a half-drank glass of wine in his right hand and was obviously a few drinks under already. 

The young men gathered around the dining hall of Flint Manor stared at Pucey. 

"Who had more bollocks than any of us gave him credit for!" Warrington shouted. 

The hall burst into laughter. 

"A toast to Flint! For nailing the bitch!" Pucey finally erupted.

A raucous burst of cheers, table pounding, and cat whistles filled the hall and the drinks were downed with another round on the way. 

"For the perfect plan!" Miles Bletchley burst with a wild snigger.

To his right, Terence Higgs grinned, showing a full mouth of white teeth. 

"Gilberton was an idiot," Higgs shook his head as he drained the rest of his merlot.

"Yeah, but a happy one at that," Bletchley winked. 

"Never met a man who gambled that badly," Higgs snickered.

"Some people are just _that _diseased," Montague interrupted. 

"At bad gambling?" Bletchley rolled his eyes.

"You said it, mate," Montague smacked his old school mate on the back.

"Give 'em a taste of glory and they'll never let go," Higgs nodded. 

"Well, Flint sent us after him all right. Never could dig himself out. Ruddy idiot," Bletchley laughed as he motioned for more alcohol. 

"Eh, maybe it works out for the best. He looks happy enough," Higgs said. He tilted his head towards Flint and grinned. 

The three graduated Slytherins looked at each other and said "Pussy whipped" simultaneously. 

"Who's pussy whipped?" 

Bletchley looked up and grinned as he caught sight of Calixte Derrick, the younger sister of an old school mate. She looked impeccable, as usual, dressed in her dark green robes, her blonde hair twisted violently a top her head. She sat down across from Higgs and pursed her lips together in distaste as Montague ripped the cork of a wine bottle out with his teeth and drank it straight.  

"Who else?" Bletchley smirked and raised his hand in Flint's direction. 

Calixte's green eyes slanted as she frowned.

"So this isn't a joke. He actually _is _marrying that… _mudblood_?" Calixte said stiffly. 

Higgs snorted. If there's one thing this bird knew how to do, it was cause malcontent. Calixte had been engaged to Flint once herself. Higss had always thought the arranged marriage was more of a parental duty issue than love though. But it appeared Calixte hadn't taken kindly to being rejected by Flint and had harbored a bitterness towards him ever since. 

"Money and all!" Bletchley hooted. 

"What do you mean?" Calixte turned sharply, her green eyes narrowed at the scent of scandal. 

"Well, y'know how Flint's dad hated him after he switched sides during the War, right?" Bletchley drawled drunkenly. 

"Who could forget the riot _that _caused," Calixte feigned disinterest.

Cassius Flint had died less than a month ago and the Wizarding community had grieved; those of importance at any rate. The fact that Flint would take over turned a few heads but after a week, it had become yesterday's news. 

"Bletch…" Higgs started as Montague accidentally hit him in the head with the bottle of wine. Higgs fell to the floor howling with Montague laughing like a maniac.  

"Well, it seems the old dog was smarter than he looked. He drafted a will and cursed it so Flint can't get a Knut of his money unless he married _Katherine Bell_ a month after his passing," Bletchley blabbered on. 

"A month after Cassius' passing?" Calixte asked calmly. 

"Yep. We didn't think he'd be able to do it, but holy fuck! That man is as brilliant as he is ugly and now he gets that bitch for a wife and the fortune!" Bletchley grinned. 

"I just don't understand _how _he did it," Calixte paused.

"Oh, that's easy. He just had to get Bell to notice him so he went for her advisor. Some shithead named Gilberton. The poor fuck fancies gambling and y'know he really shouldn't. Piss poor judgment that one. A few of us made a few bets against the boy, Quidditch games mostly, and the poor fuck got so in debt to us that he started embezzling. But Flint made him an offer and that got the ball rolling for sure," Bletchley answered without hesitation. 

"Bletch!" Higgs had finally straightened himself, but too late.

"What is it, you ruddy bastard?" Bletchley asked, turning around. 

"So _that's it, is it?" Calixte's ivy colored eyes had an unholy glint to them now. _

"Yeah, but who could say you didn't see that coming?" Bletchley winked. 

Calixte grinned viciously and grabbed the glass from Bletchley's hand. She finished the liquor off in a single, coordinated swallow and set it down on the table. 

Higgs grabbed Calixte's thin wrist and she looked up at him in slight amusement.

"You're a mate of the family. Don't forget that," Higgs said sternly. 

"Do you take me for a traitor, Terence?" Calixte asked blandly. 

"Should I?" Higgs asked. 

She leaned forward seductively and kissed him. 

"A serpent for life," she whispered into his ear, stood up, and wound her way towards Flint. 

Higgs started to get up but was steadied by Bletchley.

"He's a big boy. He knows what he's doing," Bletchley said as he shook his head slightly. 

Higgs snorted in response. 


End file.
